


The Second Coming

by SunlightOnTheWater



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s04e04 Metamorphosis, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2014-06-11
Packaged: 2018-01-04 13:04:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunlightOnTheWater/pseuds/SunlightOnTheWater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If I didn't know you, I'd want to hunt you." Dean's words haunt Sam into running away as he considers ending his life. As is typical Winchester luck it doesn't quite go the way he planned it to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"If I didn't know you I'd want to hunt you." Dean's voice echoed in Sam's head as he walked, legs aching and body exhausted. He'd ran at first, ran until his legs felt like lead. Then he'd walked. He hadn't brought anything with him besides his jacket and wallet with a few ones, a couple of credit cards under fake names, and an id that didn't match any of them. He didn't care. As far as everyone was concerned Sam Winchester was dead. 

He was done. Done with this mess. Done with trying to hold the shattered pieces of a life he'd been born with together. It never worked. First the hunting with Dad and Dean, then Stanford with Jess, then the chance at San Francisco with Madison, then hunting with Dean and his own death at Cold Oak. Each one was just another disaster. And it all added up to something he couldn't explain to Dean. He couldn't tell his brother that he'd gone with Ruby on the vain hope that Lilith would kill him and maybe it just wouldn't hurt anymore. He wasn't even sure that Dean would believe it even if he said it. It didn't matter anymore.

Somewhere back in their hotel room his phone was probably ringing. Possibly waking Dean rudely from his slumber if his older brother was back from whatever bar he'd gone to tonight to drink himself into a stupor. Ruby would be frantic, calling over and over again until Sam answered. He never would and he almost smiled at the thought of Dean's indignant fury when he answered the phone and heard the demon on the other side.

A tree was rising up in the field, massive and ancient and beautiful. Its limbs creaked tiredly in the chilly wind. It was a little cold for late September but Sam's light jacket was more than able to combat the breeze. Leaves rustled above him as Sam approached the tree, feeling almost drawn to it. The closer he got the more he felt as if he could hear voices whispering in his head. It isn't a language he could understand but he felt like he should. Ever so slowly he reached out a hand and touched the bark.

It was like falling in reverse. The pain was still there as brilliant light flooded in; grace fusing into what had once been soul and was now a very alive and aware archangel. "Well fuck," Michael mumbled under his breath as he slumped against the tree, the explicative feeling strangely fitting for the situation. He felt like he was aware of everything at once; the voices of the angels echoing all around him, the span of his wings stretching for the first time in year, the glow of his grace that is almost blinding in its brilliance stretching all around him. The memories are there too; Raphael's ultimatum, cutting out his own grace in the vain hope that maybe his failure wouldn't hurt so much, the dull knowledge that he'd locked one brother in a Cage, and the pain that another had simply chosen to leave Heaven.

"Why Dad?" Michael asked, tilting his head up to look through the branches and leaves of the tree that had once housed his grace to glance at the stars twinkling above him. "Why did I escape one fucked up family only to land in another and regain my memories too late to fix anything?" He waited for an answer that he knew wasn't coming. God was still off wandering the universe waiting for his children to finally grow up. Waiting for Michael to step up. And he was too weak to do it.

Pulling his grace in Michael let out a little sob and sank to the ground, still pressing his forehead against the tree as if it were the only thing anchoring him to reality. He could feel the knowledge of where his blade lay as well, hidden in some old farmer's barn a mile or two west of here because the man had founding it resting against the tree twenty odd years ago and hid it in some old sheets in the barn because he wasn't sure what to do with it but no one else could see it. The irony of the whole situation was that the farmer was really Mariel, a former angel of memory who had also chosen to fall. That was the only reason he was able to even touch Michael's blade without being destroyed.

Part of Michael wanted to go grab his blade and drive it through his chest. If he was killed by an angel blade, an archangel blade really, there was no one but Dad who could bring him back. Then Raphael would be forced to abandon plans of the apocalypse and maybe the angels could grow up some once they got over acting like enraged toddlers. Maybe Dad could come back. And maybe it would stop hurting.

That was where the truth lay. Michael wanted everything to stop hurting. He wanted to stop feeling as if he were a total failure in not one life but two. And that was selfish. If there was one thing Michael wasn't it was selfish. More truthfully he was selfless. He had locked away one brother because it was his father's will, not because he wanted to do it. He had destroyed cities, and even entire nations, because it was his father's will. He had tended to the other angels, led them in battle, and placed human lives before those of his own garrison all because he believed in some higher purpose than his own. Then Dad had left, things had fallen apart, and Michael had performed his first selfish act. He had chosen to fall and, as selfish acts tended to do, it had just ended in disaster.

"Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold," he mumbled. "Guess William Butler Yeats got it right." There is irony in that. That a human in the world after the second world war could have so accurately predicted the status of the apocalypse and, in one line, Michael's role in it. "The good son," he scoffed. "The only thing I'm good at is screwing things up." Well he'd solve that; take himself out of the game. Gabriel was somewhere around here on earth. If Michael worked he could probably find the muted grace of his brother and warn Gabriel of what might be coming before he offed himself. He'd leave the sword in the farmer's barn for now. Having it around would be much too tempting for him to resist. "One last hurrah Dad," Michael said, turning his head skyward once more before closing his eyes and reaching out with his grace.

Finding Gabriel was difficult but Michael had expected that. His little brother had been hiding from angels for centuries on earth. It wasn't like he'd put a flag out that said, "Here I am!" Finally he got a lock on Gabriel in a small town in Minnesota, wreaking havoc as a trickster. Michael pulled in his grace, as much of it as he could, so as not to blind any humans, and with a snap of his wings headed after his brother.

He appeared outside of a grimy windowed diner and almost smiled with he saw who Gabriel was. The same trickster who'd arranged the odd alien abduction and the alligator in the sewer. The same one who had tried to prepare Michael when he was just Sam for Dean's death. In retrospect he wondered if Gabriel would have even tried had he known that Sam Winchester was really Michael; he'd never been good with the deaths of his family.

Michael walked inside and settled in a chair across from Gabriel, not a single eye turning towards them. His little brother folded the paper he'd been reading and glanced over at him. "Sam Winchester. To what do I owe this visit? Am I attracting too much attention again?"

"Gabriel," Michael responded and watched butterscotch eyes widen. He waited patiently while his little brother checked the angelic plane and verified who he was. He watched as Gabriel frowned.

"You're still dripping with darkness. How is that even possible?"

"I'm still a screw up," Michael replied with a shrug. "Getting my grace back isn't going to change that. Listen, I'm not here to discuss that. Raphael is trying to bring about the apocalypse."

"What do you want me to do about it?" Gabriel asked, posture defensive and tone cagey.

"Nothing," Michael replied simply. "I'm taking care of it. I just wanted to warn you that there may be some kind of temper tantrum aftermath for you to watch out for." He stood, intending to leave the diner and go to where his sword waited for him. He froze, shocked when a hand on his arm stopped his forward motion.

"Michael what are you going to do?" Gabriel's tone was wary and Michael glanced over his shoulder to meet his little brother's eyes.

"Remove myself from the playing field. No Michael, no apocalypse. It's as easy as that."

"You're going to kill yourself?" Gabriel asked incredulously. "The good son?" Michael gave a self-mocking bark of a laugh at that and his little brother flat out stared at him. "Does Dean even know who you really are?"

"No but it doesn't matter. Better he thinks his little brother is dead in a ditch somewhere instead of a screw up of an archangel."

"What in Dad's name are you talking about?"

"I had two lives Gabriel. Two chances. That's more than anyone gets and I managed to royally fuck up both of them. But I'm going to fix them."

"Do I have to plan an honest to Dad intervention for you?" Gabriel asked with a laugh that sounded like it'd been punched out of him.

"I'm doing this Gabriel. You can't stop me. This is what it's going to take to stop the apocalypse and get the other angels to actually grow up so that Dad will come home."

"You haven't screwed this one up. Listen to me," Gabriel pleaded. "Just don't kill Lilith and Luci stays all nice and locked up in his Cage. It'll be fine."

"Why does everyone think that Lilith has to be the last seal? She doesn't."

"What are you even gibbering on about?"

"Lilith doesn't have to be the last seal. That one's my fault though. I convinced Dad that maybe she could find redemption and he agreed. All she has to do is break sixty-six of the seals, any sixty-six, and Lucifer walks free. She knows it too." There was a long moment of silence and Michael reluctantly allowed his little brother to tug him back into the chair he'd just vacated.

"And you think killing yourself will just make all those go away?" Gabriel asked finally.

"I already told you; no Michael, no apocalypse and the world keeps on spinning."

"Have you ever considered just talking to Raphael?"

"Have you seen him in the last century? The best person I can come up with as an equivalent is Adolf Hitler."

"Okay," Gabriel mumbled, eyebrows heading toward his hairline. "So that's a no go on the talking."

"I told you Gabriel. There's only one way to end this. I need to do this."

"Give me a week," Gabriel protested, expression suddenly open and pleading. "We have at least that much time. Give me a week and if I can't find any solution then you can off yourself. Deal?"

Michael hesitated a moment and then nodded. "Deal."


	2. Chapter 2

"You should tell Dean."

"Hmm?" Michael mumbled, eyes closed as he half listened to a frustrated Gabriel and half listened to angel radio. Another seal had broken last night and he knew they were running out of time for Michael to act. If he eliminated himself then there would be no big showdown and no reason for Raphael to continue on the apocalypse track. The angels would have to start trying to stop Lilith from breaking seals.

"You should tell Dean you're Michael," Gabriel said, sounding exasperated.

"What good would it do?" Michael tossed back and Gabriel turned away from the scroll he was studying to glare at his older brother.

"It might make you feel better," Gabriel suggested and this time it was Michael who had eyebrows rising toward his hairline.

"Right. Because being punched in the face would make me feel so much less guilty."

"You don't know that he'd react like that."

"Yes," Michael replied blandly, staring Gabriel straight in the face. "I do." Gabriel sighed and went back to his scroll.

"Did you always used to be this fun?" Michael ignored the muttered comment and went back to angel radio. Dean wasn't searching for him. Michael wasn't overly surprised by that. He knew Dean, knew what his brother probably thought he was doing, and knew there would be nothing more than a token question to Castiel asking if the young angel knew his location. Not that Castiel would have a hope of finding him if he didn't want to be found. What was more disturbing was the recent orders to Castiel and Uriel about Anna Milton, formerly known as Anael.

Anael had been a garrison leader before she'd chosen to fall rather than follow Raphael's orders. Michael had attempted to protect her as best he could but now it seemed that his best had not been enough. She had been found and Raphael wanted her dead. Briefly Michael entertained the idea of returning to Dean, not to talk to him but simply to help. He could claim that Ruby had told him about Anna and he needed assistance in making sure she was ok. The story was plausible but he didn't feel like facing Dean's righteous anger. His older brother was so confidant and constantly sure that he was in the right regardless of other's opinions. Michael wondered vaguely if he had ever been that way. If so how irritating to his siblings he must have been.

"You have that look again," Gabriel said suddenly, tossing the scroll to one side in disgust.

"What look?"

"The one that says you've heard something you want to interfere with but you're not entirely sure how to." Michael hummed in agreement and Gabriel spun his chair around so he could face his older brother with a sigh. "What is it?"

"They've found Anael. They want her dead."

"Anael fell?"

"Yes. She chose to remove her grace rather than subscribing to Raphael's vision. I attempted to help hide her but apparently it wasn't good enough. They've found her and Raphael is sending Castiel and Uriel to eliminate her."

"And you want to go help her." It wasn't a question and Michael didn't bother treating it as one. "So what are we going to do?"

"I don't know."

"That's a new one. You always know what to do."

"I was always informed of what I should do. There's a difference." Gabriel didn't argue with that. "There is one possible way it could work but I am not entirely certain I could pull it off and it would shorten your time limit."

"Go in with Dean as Sam and then reveal yourself as Michael to Castiel and Uriel," Gabriel said and Michael nodded. "It would move everyone's time limit up and I'd have days left."

"If you haven't found a way in two days you're not likely to in five more."

"I know," Gabriel replied, sighing softly. "I just wish…" Michael's younger brother cut himself off, unable to finish his sentence.

"Yeah," Michael agreed ruefully. "So do I." They sat in silence for a moment and then Gabriel let out a heavy sigh.

"Go. Do what you need to and come see me when you're done."

"Ok," Michael agreed, standing and bringing out his wings. Gabriel managed a weak smile for him.

"If you're going to kill yourself in a blaze of glory to end the apocalypse I'm at least not letting you walk to your death alone."

"Thank you," Michael replied, eyes welling with tears, and then with a strong flap of his wings he was flying away to land outside of Dean's hotel room.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam had been gone for two days when he finally showed up on the doorstep of Dean's current seedy motel room. His brother looked like shit, dark circles under his eyes and body swaying minutely with exhaustion, but Dean couldn't find it in himself to comment. He was still too angry. For two days Sam had been gone, leaving his phone so it only buzzed mournfully where ever it sat until its battery had died four hours ago, to go shack up with Ruby and take in more of what she was trying to teach him. "Ruby heard something," Sam said, standing in the doorway as if he wasn't sure of his welcome. That was good because Dean was pretty sure that when his little brother crossed the doorway into the room he was going to punch Sam. "Something about a girl that the angels and demons both want. I think we should check it out."

"Why?" Dean barked, the word sounding as if it had been punched out of his throat, and Sam flinched.

"Rumor has it she was an angel. She might be able to tell us more of what's going on than Castiel can."

"Was an angel? How is that even possible?" Dean demanded and Sam shrugged, a small and almost birdlike motion.

"As if Ruby or I know. I just think it's worth checking out." Sam had that slight stubborn glint in his eyes that said he was going to go see this girl even if Dean didn't come.

"Do you at least have a name?" he grumbled and got a weak smile in return.

"Anna Milton of Brooklyn, Indiana."

The drive to Brooklyn was long and silent but Sam seemed to get more nervous the closer they got. They discovered that Anna Milton had escaped from the looney bin and tracked her down to her father's church after discovering that her family was dead. Then Alastair showed up and with him flashbacks from Hell. That was followed by Castiel and Uriel showing up demanding that Sam and Dean hand over Anna so they could kill her, Anna mysteriously banishing the angels, and Sam wincing in pain. In fact, it felt like the only person, or thing, that hadn't showed up on this disaster of a trip was Ruby. Despite Sam claiming that the demon had given him the tip, Dean had seen neither hide nor hair of her since Sam had returned.

They secreted Anna off to Bobby's house while Bobby as on a case and put her in the panic room. Then Dean left Sam to guard her, reluctantly on his part, and went to get Pamela. Pamela was eager to come, excited to meet a possible angel, but Dean was too jumpy about leaving his demon loving brother with sweet, innocent Anna to chat. Instead he pressed the pedal almost to the floor and flew by towns to return. All was well when he arrived. Anna and Sam were chatting in the panic room but when Dean and Pamela entered the room they both silenced. Sam stood, greeted Pamela with a nod, and brushed by her.

"Sam," Dean barked after his brother but the other man kept walking and when Dean turned back to look at Pamela she was crying.

"I'm so sorry Sam," she called after Sam. Dean watched as his brother lifted a wavering hand in acknowledgement of her words. Pamela wasn't looking for acknowledgement. Instead she had already swiped the tears away and walked over to introduce herself to Anna. Twenty minutes later Dean was convinced that Anna was a fallen angel, the real deal, and Sam wasn't back yet.

"Where's your brother?" Anna the former angel asked, glancing around as if she had just noticed the younger Winchester's absence. "I was hoping to speak to him. He has a good heart." Anna's face was full of innocent sadness when Dean glanced incredulously at her. Sam? A good heart? Once Dean would have instantly agreed with her but that was before Hell and before Ruby.

"Give him time," Pamela spoke up, her voice as sad as Anna's eyes. "He's hurting very badly right now, more than you know, and he's almost out of time."

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked, glancing from Pamela to Anna, but both of them simply shook their heads.

In the end, it was Anna who came up with the plan to solve their current problems. She suggested they chose neutral ground, she knew of an old barn a few miles away from her former home, where they could call both angels and demons together. Pamela agreed that it was a good plan but after losing her eyesight during the last Winchester involved plan she insisted she didn't want anything to do with it. Instead she told them she'd hole up in the panic room until the mess was over and one of the Winchesters could come back and drive her home. They got Pamela settled and drove to the barn.

The first twenty minutes of the drive were agonizing for their awkward silence. Then Anna flipped on the radio and began singing along with some old country ballad. Sam joined in half-heartedly on the second verse and Dean rolled his eyes through the whole song but during that time the tension eased. Anna told funny stories of what happened when she taught children's church at her former father's church and eventually coaxed Sam to tell her some about his college experience. They arrived at the barn at sunset which gave Dean and Sam an hour to get into contact with Castiel and Ruby respectively. Then all that was left to do was wait.

The angels arrived first. When they did Sam pretended to be betrayed, Anna understanding. Then Anna stalled as best as she could without seeming to stall as the demons didn't show up. Dean shot a sharp glance at Sam, almost as if to say that this was all his brother's fault for trusting a demon, as Castiel stepped forward to eliminate Anna. That was when he noticed his younger brother was bristling. "Enough," Sam growled as Castiel reached out a hand toward the former angel. Both angels turned to look at him and then froze.

"Michael," Uriel breathed out and Dean froze.

"Yeah, it's me," Sam said bitterly. "The royal fuck up of a good son. Daddy's perfect little soldier. Stand and stare. Just leave Anael alone. And while you're at it leave Anael her grace. I know you have it." Castiel bowed his head and stepped away from Anna but Uriel still gaped at Sam.

"How are you here?"

"I fell," Sam said with a mocking smile. "Ripped my grace out and became a screw up of a human. Lucky me. Now Anael's grace if you don't mind. I have things to attend to, an apocalypse to stop, and a not so tragic death to plan." Sam clapped his hands twice impatiently and Uriel reluctantly removed a pendant from around his neck, handing it over to Anna before vanishing with a flutter of wings. "Castiel keep an eye on Dean if you don't mind. Things are going to get rather hairy in not too long." Then Sam too was gone with another flutter of wings, leaving Castiel, Dean, and Anna behind.


	4. Chapter 4

Michael reappeared in a hotel room that was much more chaotic than when he'd left it. "Are you assembling the reborn Library of Alexandria in our hotel room?" he asked as he fished his younger brother out from a pile of books and papers.

"I take it everything went successful with Anael," Gabriel shot back.

"Anael is saved, Castiel may be keeping an eye on Dean after my not so unfortunate demise, and Uriel went running off to Heaven to inform Raphael via the food chain that I'm still alive. I'd say if we're lucky we have twenty-four hours," Michael returned dryly.

"Give me three more," Gabriel demanded, knowing that Michael was planning to end it all now. "I might have something here." Michael acquiesced gracefully because he couldn't deny his favorite younger brother of anything. Gabriel studied Michael for a moment, seeming to judge his sincerity before turning back to his papers. Michael cleared a chair and settled in it, eyes fixed on the window beyond as he waited. Personally he didn't believe there would be a way to save him. His father was watching for somewhere and had seen Michael's failures clearly. God didn't believe in solving all his children's problems for them and Michael was just going to solve this mess himself. With his death.

The first hour passed in silence as Gabriel shuffled through papers and cross-referenced every bit of information he could get his hands on. Michael's little brother had never been one to do extensive research on anything so he appreciated the effort all the more despite the futility of the action. Gabriel started cursing around the second hour, getting rather creative with his efforts as he went. Michael felt his lips twitch sadly. Gabriel's habit was reminiscent of Lucifer but even Michael had been known to let a few swear words loose on particularly bad situations. He would miss that. He would miss all of his siblings. Actually scratch that, Michael wouldn't be missing much of anyone from the great beyond. He'd be dead and for angels death was dissolving into nothingness.

"You're brooding." There had been a sudden lull in the cussing and paper shuffling and Michael turned to find his younger brother studying him intensely.

"And you were cursing," he shot back not bothering to deny the accusation that he had been brooding. He was going to end himself in a couple hours; he deserved to be able to brood. Gabriel's lips twitched in a mockery of a smile but the seriousness didn't fade from his face.

"When did we get so screwed up?" Michael gave a one armed shrug but Gabriel's gaze didn't waver. "No, seriously, when did we become so messed up that all this crap happened?"

"I have no idea," Michael replied heavily and Gabriel stood, offering him a hand. Michael took it and stood as well.

"I can't find anything," Gabriel admitted, eyes heavy with grief. "But I don't want to see you go."

"Twenty-four hours?" Michael offered, because it was the only thing he had left to give his little brother and if he was going to die and leave Gabriel alone he could at least do this much. Gabriel nodded.

"Twenty-four hours. Let's go big brother, I have some things to tie up before we end the apocalypse." 

Miles away Dean Winchester was speeding toward Bobby's house where Pamela Barnes was waiting in the panic room, hoping that maybe the blind psychic could shed some light on his current situation.


	5. Chapter 5

"What did you mean?"

Pamela Barnes glanced in the direction she knew Dean was standing. The older Winchester brother, or younger now she supposed, was bubbling over with conflicted emotions. "What do you mean?" she asked because she was psychic but she wasn't sure that anyone but God himself could have deciphered what Dean was asking about at the moment.

"You said Sam was almost out of time. What did you mean by that?" Dean demanded. He face was pale as if he'd just received a huge shock (which Pamela knew he had, his brother being Michael and all) and his eyes were wild. Pamela couldn't see any of that but Dean had seen a flash of himself in a mirror as he'd bolted for the panic room and the image was partially seared into his brain.

"He is going to die soon," Pamela said simply. It had been written in everything that was Sam, or Michael rather as she, Anna, and Dean now knew him as.

"He's an archangel," Dean protested. "How can he die?"

"An archangel blade stabbed through the heart. Or I suppose to gut could do just as well," Pamela replied. She knew she shouldn't be speaking so callously about such things but she had known Michael's intentions from the moment he'd brushed by her and had plenty of time to come to terms with them. And consider how to change them.

"And who exactly is going to stab him? It isn't like there's an abundance of archangels on earth, is there?"

"No," Pamela said almost absently. "Just two." At least as far as she had been able to tell from her brief reading of Michael. She had mostly gotten his immediate emotions and perceptions which was good because she was pretty sure that any more would have fried her brain.

"Then who is going to stab him?"

"Dean," Pamela protested, not wanting to tell him the truth. The truth would hurt Dean and the poor boy had been hurt enough by the world already. Her protest didn't do any good. Besides, the more she protested the more Dean would insist to know the truth. It was in his nature and that meant that Pamela still had a chance of changing what Michael planned.

"Tell me," Dean demanded and she sighed heavily. The feelings she had gotten for Michael were sour in her mind and the words for them felt bitter on her tongue as she spoke.

"Dean, Michael believes he is a failure, not in one life but two. He saw it as his responsibility to hold Heaven together after God left them for a time and he sees their rebellion against their father's wishes as his personal failure," Pamela paused to suck in a shuddering breath and then continued. "He ripped out his grace and was reborn as Sam Winchester but he feels as if he has failed you because of what you told him. He thinks that the only way to fix his mistakes is to eliminate himself from the playing field. If there is no Michael there is no apocalypse. He knows where his blade is being kept and he intends to make use of it." Dean's face froze as Pamela's words sunk in.

"Pam," he said finally, voice hesitant. "You don't mean to say that Sam intends to kill himself?"

"Yes," Pamela said grimly. "That is exactly what he's going to do." Dean stared at her, eyes wide and hurt.

"But why?" he pressed even though Pamela knew she had already explained everything to him.

"He doesn't have anything left to live for," she told him tiredly. Dean slumped toward the floor like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Pamela didn't realize he was falling until he hit the floor with a thump. His mind was still conscious and he simply slumped there, processing. "I'm sorry Dean," Pamela told him, telling the young man the one thing she knew would get him to act. "But I don't think there's anything you can do."

"Like Hell there isn't," Dean snarled. "Sorry Pam but your trip home is going to have to wait. Now tell me where I can find my brother." Pamela did and as Dean Winchester sped off the save the oldest archangel in Heaven she sat in the panic room and smiled.


	6. Chapter 6

Michael leaned down to retrieve his sword from under a pile of hay, fingers wrapping carefully around the hilt. The metal gleamed immediately, like it was brand new, responding to its rightful owner's grace. His fingers shook as he held the blade. Held the weapon of his destruction. "Michael," Gabriel pressed gently. "Are you sure?" Michael let out a shaky breath and turned to look at his younger brother.

"I am sure," he said gently. "And so are you, deep down. This is the only way."

"Then you're a stupid, selfish bastard," a voice Michael had never expected hear again snarled. He turned slowly to see Dean standing in the doorway of the barn, expression angry but eyes terrified.

"I have to do this," Michael insisted. "There is no other choice."

"There's always a way," Dean snapped back. "Isn't that what you told me when you were trying to break my deal?"

"And look how well that turned out." That silenced Dean. His mouth opened and shut for several moments but nothing came out. Michael firmed his grip on the blade, almost hating how easily he held it. In his mind it should feel almost too heavy to lift, the way it had the day he'd set out to cast Lucifer down.

" _Michael_ ," Gabriel pleaded and he almost couldn't bring himself to meet his brother's amber eyes.

"I'm sorry," he apologized brokenly. "So very, very sorry."

"I know," Gabriel responded and in light of that it was one of the hardest things Michael had ever done to lift the blade and turn it towards his own chest. He thought it would be simple. He'd almost ended the world and it should have been a relief to turn the blade toward his traitorously beating heart and know that he was ending the apocalypse. Instead it felt like an even bigger failure than anything he had done so far. He hesitated, just for a brief instant, but that was all the time Lilith needed.

His sword clattered to the floor of the barn as he felt the Cage fly open and Lucifer rise, free. Bile rose up his throat and he fell to his knees, fingers clenching uselessly in his hair. The moment seemed to go on forever, all of Creation simultaneously singing and screaming at the Morningstar's return. Michael, for his part, wept as another failure was added to his list. "Michael, brother." The voice was familiar and yet not. It was human and angel and the last time he'd heard it like that it had been full of hate and rage against everything Michael had ever stood for. This time is sounded angry to but also uncertain.

He forced himself to look up and meet now blue eyes that had formerly been deep green. Lucifer. "Of course." Michael barked out the words on the heels of a broken laugh, shaking his head. Of course Lucifer was really Dean. It was a fitting punishment, worthy of his father's wrath in days of old, that he be seen as a betrayer and a failure in both lives by both his closest brothers. It was just too perfect.

Lucifer looked confused, as if he had missed a page in the script. "Michael what-"

"Do what you want," he interrupted bitterly with a wave of his hand. "You always do anyway and you always will. I won't stop you. I can't do it again." His hand stretched out toward his sword, his mind longing for the end. Just one more failure to add to his list. He was almost unsurprised when his blade was kicked away.

"You stupid, selfish bastard," Lucifer said, sounding almost more like Dean than the angel he truly was as he dropped to his knees next to his older brother. "I'm an idiot, okay? I threw a temper tantrum, tried to destroy what I should have protected, and then blamed you for doing what you had to. Then Dad, in all his infinite wisdom, decided to reverse positions on me and give me the rebellious younger sibling and I had to go through everything you did. Except you were sorry for hurting me and I just went on not caring that I'd ripped apart your family and left you behind in pieces." There was a pause and then the Morningstar added in a softer tone, "I'm sorry, okay?" The apology was half Dean with his dislike of chick flick moments but trying to hold his family together and half Lucifer begging, as a little brother to a beloved older sibling, for forgiveness.

"Okay," Michael said brokenly, even though he was unsure whether things would ever be okay again. He had failed so many times since Heaven had fallen apart on his watch and he had run from those mistakes only to make more. He was no longer what he had once been, no longer sure of what steps to take, and Heaven needed leadership and guidance to recover from the wreck it had become. Similarly Lucifer was no longer what he had once been but his pride and his insistence that he was right lingered strongly in his personality. It would make trying to reintegrate him into Heaven difficult.

Raphael and Gabriel had changed as well. Gabriel had fled from Heaven and passed judgment as a trickster where sometimes his best intentions had turned to cold blooded murder. Raphael had taken over Heaven's control, after Michael's obvious failure, and ruled it with an iron fist, trying to bring about a prophecy in hopes of calling their father home. Michael knew better. God would return when his children had grown up and not before then. He could not hold their hand forever while also guiding His human children.

Michael glanced first at Lucifer and then at Gabriel before glancing back down where his sword lay on the ground. He could still end it now but Lucifer was right, it would be a selfish move. He had Heaven to fix. "It's worth a try," Gabriel said, his voice soft but hopeful, and Michael forced himself to nod. Yes, he didn't know whether or not anything would ever be okay again but he had to try. Anything less than that would be a sin. Michael stood and reached out his hands and for the first time in over twenty years he returned to Heaven with his brothers at his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I didn't intend for this story to take so long to finish up. Initially I planned to end with Michael's death ending all plans for the apocalypse and a remorseful Dean arriving too late and realizing what he had lost but I couldn't bring myself to write that and so a fragment of this last chapter lingered on my hard drive until I came up with a different solution. As for this end, well I would have liked to write a happy ending where everything is all butterflies and rainbows but that wouldn't have fit with these characters and would have been absurdly out of place in this story. Therefore I'll leave it where it is, broken but with a glimmer of hope, and let you imagine what happens next.

**Author's Note:**

> The poem from which the line "Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold" is quoted from is called The Second Coming by William Butler Yeats. The full poem and a little history about it can be found if you follow this link; http://www.potw.org/archive/potw351.html


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